Around the World in Ten Days | Page 6

do it," was the prompt response of Paul.
"But we must warn him to silence, John. Whatever happens, we don't
wish this to get into the Daily Independent."
"I'd say not," rejoined the former Air Mail pilot sententiously. "Mum's
the word; we've got something here, Buddy. Unless I'm greatly
mistaken we'll be consulting with the Patent Office at Washington
much sooner than little mother anticipates." He poked Paul in the ribs
as he spoke, and both young men gave vent to a low chuckle of intense
satisfaction. It was an even greater pleasure to look forward to

surprising their mother than to astonishing the world and winning its
plaudits.
As good an airplane mechanic and flyer as John Ross was, his younger
brother was little behind him in the matter of skill in handling a modern
machine. It had been John's habit to return to Yonkers every two weeks
for a week's lay-off, as customary with other pilots in the Air Mail
service. On these occasions he had arrived in his plane, and during the
term of his stay had often taken Paul up into the air for pleasure flights,
as well as his chum Bob Giddings. Both boys were keen students, and
it was not long before John could trust them to operate his big Martin
with every confidence. Once, indeed, he and Paul had been caught over
Long Island Sound in a bad storm, when the latter was in the pilot's seat,
but Paul had brought the craft through like a veteran, winning his
brother's unstinted praise and undying respect.
CHAPTER III
A SUCCESSFUL MODEL
Mr. Giddings was glad to accept the invitation to the trial flight. He and
his son met the Ross boys at the old race-course Saturday afternoon.
This immense, level field, with its one-mile oval and great empty sheds,
at one time had been the county's boasted fair-grounds, but two years
prior to the opening of our story it had been sold to Mr. Giddings,
whose residence property stretched down the side of Shadynook Hill
and joined it. New fair-grounds had then been established in another
and more centrally located section of the district. In the old grounds the
boys of the neighborhood now went to fly their kites and model
airplanes, to hold impromptu bicycle and foot races, and to play tag and
hide-and-go-seek in the cavernous sheds and around the numerous
sagging stables.
It was late in the afternoon--just before dusk, when the winds would be
at their quietest, and others not likely to be present--that our friends
arrived at the field. There was not a soul to be seen. Paul, who had
carried his precious Sky-Bird, freed it from the wrapper and held it up

for Mr. Giddings to see. The night before he and John had put the
finishing touches to the delicate structure by adding another coat of
varnish and attaching the little rubber-tired aluminum wheels to the
axle.
As Paul now held it up before the gaze of the great newspaper man, Mr.
Giddings made no effort to restrain his admiration. "What a little
beauty!" he cried. "Why, it's almost a perfect mechanical representation
of a bird!"
"Isn't she a dandy, dad?" put in Bob, his eyes snapping.
"The Sky-Bird is really more of a bird than you may think, Mr.
Giddings," declared Paul.
"Yes," added his brother John. "As you probably know, sir, a bird gets
its great buoyancy from the fact that every bone in its body is hollow;
in flight it fills these bones with a very light gas, which is formed by an
action of its lungs in drawing in air. We have adapted this principle in
the wings and fuselage of this little machine. They are airtight and
filled with compressed helium-gas, which is non-inflammable and
nearly as light as its highly volatile rival, hydrogen-gas."
"Hydrogen-gas is surely a dangerous commodity around fire," said Mr.
Giddings. "I understand that when the big English dirigible R-34 came
across the Atlantic last summer she was filled with hydrogen, and that
her commander and crew all wore felt-soled shoes, so that they would
not by any chance cause a spark when they walked over her metal
floors and ladders just beneath her great bag."
"That is true," vouched John Ross. "One little spark reaching any of
that stored hydrogen would have torn that great dirigible into fragments
in one gigantic blast."
"We have handled recent newspaper copy containing mention of this
new gas, helium; but I must confess I am in the dark regarding its
nature and source," said Mr. Giddings. "What is it, anyway?"

"I will refer your question to Paul here," replied John. "He is the one
who worked out this idea of using helium in an airplane and giving it
the best properties of a dirigible